


Macarons

by codexumbra



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: ALSO also i knowww guzma isnt in team rr but i can dream, M/M, Multi, also this is oras archie and maxie i dont like their original designs lmao, faba is mentioned but not enuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:55:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22371424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codexumbra/pseuds/codexumbra
Summary: Guzma wants to show his new friends that he knows how to bake. They don’t trust him.
Relationships: Akagi | Cyrus/Sakaki | Giovanni, Aogiri | Archie/Matsubusa | Maxie, theyre very obvious you dont have to squint lmao
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	Macarons

“Jus’ take it. I don’t care any more. The stove in there is defunct.” 

Once the young man spit his words, conversation at the huge dining table came to an abrupt stop. Looking off, Guzma fumbled with the apron around his waist and angrily yanked at the knot in the back, huffing through his nose. With a clearing of his throat, Giovanni spoke. “Let me help you, son.” The older man pushed himself up from his seat and made his way behind the younger gentleman. The rest of the table examined the metal pan aligned with semi-burnt, unappetizing looking macarons, Archie being the only one who looked physically excited to try one. Guzma looked at their faces self-consciously and swallowed, thanking Giovanni for untying the knot once he had finally done so. When the boss took his seat, the room returned to silence. 

“Well....” Lysandre spoke, a swallow traveling down his throat. He examined the faces of his associates and then looked back at the pan, thumbs twiddling on the surface of the table. He cleared his throat and looked at Maxie, who stopped mid-sip of his coffee. “Maxie!” He nearly shouted, getting the Magma leader’s attention. He looked up slowly from his mug, training his eyes on Lysandre as a silent plea of mercy and as a means of asking what he wanted. Lysandre cleared his throat and nudged his attention toward the plate of..desserts. Maxie swallowed and took the mug away from his bottom lip, staring at the pan. “...Those’re...?” “Macarons.” Guzma chuffed. 

“Ah..” He spoke. Then he fell silent and nodded. “They look..” “Burnt. Just say they look burnt, I already know it.” Guzma grunted, hiding his self consciousness under his breath. Maxie was silent, turning his head to look at the pan closer. “They really don’t..” He began. Then he sat up and cleared his throat, eyes in the room sticking to him. Guzma swallowed and again, it fell silent. Then he looked up. His eyes fell on the only totally impartial one at the table. 

“Will *you* try them, at least?” Guzma spoke in a desperate voice, realizing that all of his work would go to waste if he refused. Cyrus sat with hands folded in his lap, his unwaveringly glassy ocean-blue eyes keeping themselves trained on the pan, then they darted up to Guzma. He opened his mouth a few seconds later, keeping his posture straight and his face emotionless. He closed his mouth and sighed through his nose. Then he nodded. Guzma’s face lit up and he smiled, smacking his shaking hands down on the table. “You’re a real one, Cyrus! God, man. Thank ya’. I owe you, alright?” He cleared his throat and waiting for a confirming nod from the ever silent man. Realizing that he wouldn’t have the privilege of being the first one to crack his tooth on one, Archie slumped disappointedly into his chair and huffed a clear sigh from his nose. Maxie noticed and gave him a gentle peck on the head. 

After having the tray nudged to him by Faba, Cyrus examined it closely. He chose one that, had it come out correctly, would have been a bright blue. Giovanni leaned over to watch his expression, then smoothed a hand on his waist. “Please don’t choke.” He whispered, to which Cyrus chuffed. Guzma rolled his eyes. “He ain’t gonna *choke* they’re not THAT bad! Just...” Giovanni looked at the tray, then Guzma. “Black as night, aren’t they?” Before Guzma could retort, Maxie gasped. “He took a bite.” 

All eyes were on Cyrus. If Cyrus had been paying attention, this would have made him freak out- but he was looking up, half of the macaron sitting gently between his groping fingers, in which he fiddled with the crisping edges. Giovanni and Guzma watched him intently. Archie kept his position, but watched ever curiously from the chair. Maxie did the same. Lysandre bit his pointer nail and Faba scratched his palm. 

All of them expected him to begin coughing smoke. Choking, like Giovanni had suggested. They expected him to be revolted with what he had put in his mouth, but he simply swallowed. Then he spoke. “It’s good.” 

Everyone sat up. “Really?” Guzma begged, leaning in. Cyrus nodded, laying the other half down. “Mhm. The merengue is really nice.” He folded his hands back into his lap politely, Giovanni urging him to lay back onto his shoulder. 

Once the room had relaxed , Guzma cleared his throat to speak but, as soon as he did, Archie sat up faster than he could collect his words and his hand darted for the other half of the one Cyrus had bit into. Cyrus grimaced at the thought of sharing his germs with the man and closed his eyes against Giovanni’s shoulder. The Aqua leader popped the whole half into his mouth and chewed confidently, having been assured in himself from the very beginning that it would be delicious. 

And it was. It really was. The man beamed and nodded. “They’re good! I knew it, see?” He nudged Maxie who stuck out his tongue at his partner. Archie looked around the table and focused on who looked the most anxious. “Lysandre! Hey! Try one, huh?” He slid the tray his way to which Lysandre flinched and yelped, almost having let the thing fly off the table before Guzma put up a defensive arm to stop it. “Calm down! Brute force much?” 

Lysandre stared at the food, examining the delicate things with precaution. “I...” “Just try it! Two super different people liked it, come on! Give it a go. Please?” Guzma looked at him pleadingly. Lysandre stared at the dish. He swallowed tentatively and gently picked a macaron up with his pointer and thumb finger. He broke a tiny piece off and gently put it into his mouth. After a minute of chewing and a range of facial expressions, he swallowed. “I..”

“It..it’s nice...” He paused- “It’s good! It’s not professional by any means but they’re genuinely nice to bite into. They have a nice snap and, like Cyrus said, the merengue is magnificent.” He turned his attention toward Guzma. “They’re lovely, Guzma. I believe I owe you an apology for underestimating you.” He nodded gently then snapped off another piece of the sweet before sticking it in his mouth.

Giovanni eyed the tray from the other side of the table, hand resting on his mouth contemplatively. His brows were furrowed until Cyrus leaned onto him and tilted his head back and whispered something to him. After his partner did so, Giovanni sighed. “Alright. Pass the tray over.” He beckoned someone on the other side of the table to do so, Lysandre being the one to gently pass it to him. He mumbled a thank you below his breath and glossed over his options, his eyes ever judgemental of what he was seeing. 

After a hot minute, he gently picked up a macaron that would have been purple. “Purple, no?” He cocked his head and looked at Guzma. The Team Skull leader nodded, finally taking a seat on the empty chair at the end of the table. Giovanni hummed and looked at it, Cyrus not opening his eyes to do the same. Like his partner had, he broke off one half of it and placed the other onto the tray- Archie grabbed it quickly and Giovanni chuckled. Then he popped the thing into his mouth. 

Silence. 

“It’s good, boy. It’s good. I can taste the burntness of this one, but..just a tint.” He smacked his lips and rubbed his knuckles into the palm of his hand. He made eye contact with Guzma and gave the man a fatherly smile. “You should do this more, you know?” He shrugged nonchalantly, and Guzma’s eyes lit up. “For real?” He asked, a hopeful smile plastered onto his face. 

“Of course.” He hummed. 

“I wouldn’t mind giving you the role of the group baker.”


End file.
